


Far From It

by yinghuochong



Series: Broken Compass [4]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Blood and Violence, Chan is Cursed, Death, Explicit Sexual Content, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean, Killing, Knives, M/M, Memories, Pirates, Reliving the Past, Swords, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 19:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yinghuochong/pseuds/yinghuochong
Summary: Whoever had killed those sailors knew how to handle a blade but didn’t know how to cover up their own tracks. What kind of person was he up against? The cut on each cadaver’s throat was clean and fatal -- no signs of struggle apparent. Perhaps the tracks would lead to an ambush. Or maybe his opponent was one that feared nothing. As much as he wished it was just him on the ship, it wasn’t. He licked his lips and followed the path painted out for him.---------Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean





	Far From It

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I'm sorry about that huge break I took. Life has been quite hectic recently. I was seriously so busy between classes and work. I actually didn't get home from work until almost 4 am last night which has left me quite exhausted. 
> 
> However, I am really excited about this installment and I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> As always, please leave comments because I love reading them :)

_Ready the sails, hoist the anchor_

_Chart our course, face the horizon and_

_Take me to the edge of the world_

\---------

At the sound of a door closing, he opened his eyes. Woojin was pulling off his boots, coat already hung. The older boy’s hair and clothes were dripping wet. The sound of the rain pattering on their roof was all the explanation he needed.

_You were gone for so long today._ He heard himself whine.

_Not any longer than usual,_ the other laughed. _If anything, I came home early because of the storm._

_I wish it stormed every day._

_I don’t, because I’d never catch anything. How would I feed your massive appetite?_

Minho’s mind flooded with facts about the older. How Woojin’s father had passed away from an illness when he was a young boy, leaving him to be the sole provider for his family. He had to become a master fisherman at an early age in order to put food on the table. Due to his rigorous schedule, he lived separately in his own little hut he had built from the scraps of an old shipwreck. He had only ever known hard work.

The older came towards the bed, giving him a light kiss. He chased after as Woojin pulled away.

_Channie, I smell like fish._

_Don't care._ He had fingers secured in the other's hair and was trying to bring them closer.

_At least let me bathe first_.

He tried to wait, he really did -- but five minutes was already too long. He found himself rising to shaky feet, taking step after unsteady step. He was only a little dizzy, far too desperate to be worried. The older sat up as he entered, asking if everything was alright.

It would be soon. He dropped his clothes and climbed into the bathtub. Woojin looked surprised, watching him closely as he settled back into the other's lap. The water still had steam curling off the surface, warmth soaking into his skin. One of Woojin's arms circled around his waist automatically, fingers trailing mindlessly over his abdominal muscles. He sighed, feeling lips against the side of his neck.

_You really couldn't wait?_

He shook his head, gripping the older's thighs so he had the leverage to grind back. Woojin groaned behind him, breath getting heavier the slower he moved. Large hands landed on his hips, holding him in place while the other rutted up into him.

_You can't interrupt my bath only to tease me, Channie._

He shivered at the words whispered into his ear, the older rocking against him with more force. The water rippled around them, only adding fuel to his fire. He guided one of Woojin's hands between his legs, where he wanted to be touched the most. The older wasted no time, immediately stroking his leaking cock to the same rhythm of their hips.

He threw his head back as a thumb pressed into his slit, smearing the pre-cum around before the hand shifted farther down. He spread his legs even wider, raising himself up slightly so the older could slide a strong finger passed his entrance. He keened in delight, feeling himself being pet from the inside. There were teeth nipping at his throat and blunt nails lightly scratching over his nipples.

When his muscles were stretched around three thick digits and he was trembling with need, Woojin gave him the go ahead. He lifted himself up carefully, holding on to the edge of the tub and turning. He lowered himself to his knees, planting one on each side of the older's frame. Woojin's palms were splayed on his hips again, supporting him as he lined them up and sank down. They moaned in unison, instantly meeting for a heated kiss.

The older guided the movement of his body, licking into his mouth with the perfect combination of passion and dominance. He was always elated at the way they fit together. Every sensation ignited something so amazing within him, head clouded with pure euphoria. The praises spoken against his neck only enhanced and intensified the pleasure burning through him. He wouldn't last much longer.

It seemed like as he ascended into seventh heaven, the storm grew louder. Each thrust from the older sent sparks across his vision and made his heartbeat stutter. He shut his eyes and focused on reaching his high. Woojin was sucking on his shoulder, hand working his length again and pistoning into his prostate. He couldn't hold back anymore. He bit down on his bottom lip and dug his fingertips into the muscles of Woojin's arms. One final kiss was all it took for him to orgasm with a cry.

He jolted awake at the deafening crash overhead. A bolt of lightning illuminated the obsidian sky. It would have been a brilliant sight if they weren’t being drenched in a torrential downpour. Thunder clashed above him and rattled through his bones. Minho was completely disoriented. It took a second for him to realize that Chan had been dreaming when the past was the present.

Changbin’s face was buried in Chan’s chest in an attempt to hide from the storm. Unsurprisingly, his dream-induced arousal was the least of his concern. Their rowboat rocked wildly among the reckless waves. He did his best to shield the smaller from the elements, but it was no use. It seemed as if the rain went straight through him. They shivered against each other.

Minho had never been exposed to a tempest so harsh before and he was sure he never wanted to be again. Every drop of rain felt like a needle piercing his skin. He was becoming numb, unable to feel Changbin at all. Before he could register anything else, a wall of water crashed into them -- their boat nearly capsizing. Immediately he realized his arms were empty. The other had been knocked into the sea. He frantically searched for any signs of Changbin, catching a glimpse of the boy being engulfed. He dove without hesitation and into the next moment of Chan’s life.

The sky was blue, and the ocean was calm. His muscles screamed at him, demanding that he take a break from rowing and rest. He couldn’t, though. Changbin wouldn't make it if he did. Without any way to warm the younger up, hypothermia was setting in. They had lost all provisions when they nearly flipped, and Chan was functioning on pure adrenaline. He feared he wouldn’t last much longer. If he collapsed, though, he would be forfeiting _both_ of their lives. He had to keep going -- he didn’t have a choice.

Just when he was sure they would perish, a strip of land appeared on the horizon. Darkness was spreading rapidly. They wouldn’t survive a second storm. With a newfound energy, he rowed with haste. Changbin _had_ to make it, even if he didn’t. Before his arms snapped in two, they made it to shallow waters. Throwing caution to the wind, he hoisted the almost lifeless boy onto the dry shore. Only after he placed the younger by a warm fire, did he realize the whole island was ablaze. The looming shadow had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the smoke billowing from multiple points along the terrain.

He _knew_ that dock and that cluster of trees. The layout of the village was one he had limped through for many months… Woojin’s home -- or, at least, what was left of it. Buildings crackled one last time before caving in. An island that had brought him back to life was burning to ash before his eyes and he could only watch every agonizing second. He wanted to find Woojin and search for survivors, but he couldn’t leave Changbin exposed and vulnerable. He drew his newly acquired sword at the sound of people approaching.

The world around him melted into a multicolored sky. It looked beautiful above him. Too beautiful. It made him angry. The waves crashed below in accordance with the pain inside. The fires had died down, but the grief hadn’t. The surviving women mourned the loss of their husbands and sons, weeping for their stolen daughters and children.

His gaze dropped to the soiled rock. At one point, it was his favorite place. A spot not too far from Woojin’s house and one that had the most breathtaking view of the ocean. Now, it was stained with blood. One of those marks was made with Woojin’s last heartbeat. The men had been taken to the edge, drained of life before being cast into the depths. He collapsed. His throat closed up and he choked on his own cries. The anguish was too much for Minho. It was far worse than what he had experienced in the captain’s memories before. It was suffocating.

He clawed his way to the surface of his own conscience, forcing himself to break through the spell of the sea glass. He shoved Chan away frantically. Anything to save himself from the despair that threatened to consume him. He tumbled off the bed and collided with the floor, gasping for fresh air like a fish on land.

“It’s okay,” Chan soothed, “You’re back to real life.”

He wiped at the sweat on his brow, trying his best to steady his breathing. When his hand ceased its trembling, the blonde helped him to sit on the edge of the bed.

Chan carefully dried the tears off Minho’s face. “Do you want to continue?”

“D-do I have to relive that memory again?” He didn’t think he could do it if he did.

“No,” The captain promised, “I’ll start a little after that.”

Minho chewed his bottom lip. Seeing Chan’s past was only making more questions form within his mind. He wasn’t really getting the answers he was looking for. Still, he needed to know.

The older placed a new piece on his own tongue, combing through Minho’s hair comfortingly. He took another shaky breath, relaxing at the feeling of Chan’s mouth brushing against his. Before he slipped away, a warm hand settled on his waist and he felt secure. He blinked the next image into clarity.

Changbin was seated in a bed, hand holding on to his wrist.

_Let me come with._ The other boy begged. It was undeniable that Changbin was sick. Aside from being malnourished, the smaller was ghostly pale and feverish. _I'm fine._

_You’re not even close to “fine.”_ He felt himself shake his head, _You're too ill from the storm._

_You can't go alone, Chan_.

_I can't wait for you to get better either._ He argued, _They will get farther and farther every day. If I don't go now, I may never find them again._ He took a shaky breath. _All those kids will be sold off or, or worse. I can't let that happen_.

_You'll end up dead if you go by yourself._

The fracture in his heart seemed to spread. _Without Woojin_ , he thought, _I already am_.

_Stay here and heal._ He ordered, stifling his sorrow. He kneeled beside Changbin. _It's the best place for that. Once you’re all better, you can help them rebuild. I’ll be back soon._

_How long is “soon?”_

_I don’t know,_ he really didn’t. _A month, maybe?_

_What if you aren’t?_

_Then I’m probably not coming back at all._

_Please, Chan_ . _Let me go with you. At least we’ll die together._

_For fuck’s sake Changbin._ He grit his teeth -- frustrated and fragile. _I did not go through all of that just for you to die as soon as you’re safe. You are not coming, end of discussion._

The smaller curled in on himself, _I-I’m sorry. I’m just worried._

_I know, I know._ He softened his voice, irritation dissipating at the considerate words. _I just can’t risk losing you too... If you stay here, though, I know you’re safe even if something happens to me._

_I understand… I just, just know what it’s like to be lonely._ Changbin wouldn’t meet his eyes, _I don’t want you to die alone._

_It will be okay,_ he reassured. _If I die, I won’t be alone in the end._

He set sail in one of the fishing boats. He flipped open his compass, hoping the needle would point him towards the abducted children. Days went by, but his heading never strayed. He continued to go at a steady pace, determined to hunt down the ship before it managed to trade any of the captives. It would be almost impossible to track everyone down once they were sold off.

After what felt like months, though he knew it was just over a week, he finally caught sight of a royal navy vessel. It seemed to be taking its time, just sloshing along with the light breeze. He had cheated a little, rowing when the wind wasn’t strong enough. He glanced at the face of his instrument, just to verify that what he most desired was aboard that ship -- and what he wanted was to bring those children home.

The scene rippled like water, stilling as he crept through the shadows. He had to do this wisely. It wasn’t just his life on the line. He had to decide whether he would make this as stealthy or as messy as possible. His vengeful spirit wanted to slaughter every crew member, but would he risk everyone’s freedom just for his personal satisfaction? No, he couldn’t. Instead of making a beeline for the captain’s quarters, like usual, he sought out the brig. There were tiny bodies huddled together for warmth in overcrowded cells. There were a few girls his age who bared their teeth in spite.

He wiped the key on his pant leg -- cleaning some of the blood out of the grooves -- before inserting it into the nearest lock. Its keeper had been easy to get through, drunk and unskilled. As he slid the door open, one of the young women stepped between him and the children.

_If it's sex you want, take me instead._ She held her head high despite her circumstances. _I only ask that we are far away from the children. I will do everything you want, if you leave them alone._

_I'm not here for that_ . He offered her the key. Her eyes flicked, uncertain, between his hand and his face. Cautiously, she took it. _Stay quiet and move quick. There’s a boat on the starboard side. Get everyone on and start rowing east._

_What about you?_

_I have some unfinished business to handle. I'll try to clear the ship and meet you on deck._ Before he could turn away fully, she grabbed his arm. 

_Am I dreaming?_

_You’re not._

_So, this is real?_ He nodded. _Are you an angel?_

_Far from it_ . _I’m a pirate._

He moved through the levels of the ship, finding it strange how eerily quiet it was. He took a deep breath before slipping into the crew’s quarters. The only sound came from a steady chorus of drip drops. He adjusted his grip on the handle of his sword, approaching the closet hammock. What he saw _really_ made Minho queasy. He didn’t understand how Chan could be so unbothered by the sight of a sailor drowned in his own blood -- a single slice beneath the chin.

Instantly, he was on high alert. He moved to look at the occupant of the lower hammock, finding the navy man in a similar state. Something was very wrong. He wasn’t alone on the ship. There was someone else out for revenge and he wasn’t sure if they would hinder his rescue. He couldn’t risk it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a large footprint stamped onto the floorboards.

Minho could feel Chan’s confusion. Whoever had killed those sailors knew how to handle a blade but didn’t know how to cover up their own tracks. What kind of person was he up against? The cut on each cadaver’s throat was clean and fatal -- no signs of struggle apparent. Perhaps the tracks would lead to an ambush. Or maybe his opponent was one that feared nothing. As much as he wished it was just him on the ship, it wasn’t. He licked his lips and followed the path painted out for him.

Unsurprisingly, the prints began to fade the farther he was from the room full of bodies. He ended up on the main deck, last traces difficult for him to see. A few wet patches caught his eye and he stared at the entrance to the commander’s cabin. Could it have been that it was simply an angry captain who murdered his own crew? 

From his place on the starboard side of the deck, he could see that the door was unlatched. The rich stench of iron hung in the air. There was only silence -- dead silence. He could see one of the girls peeking out from the stairwell. He signaled to her.

They tiptoed towards him, holding fingers up to shush each other. The girls went down the ladder first, stopping at various levels. He helped the first little boy onto the rungs, passing him off to the closest girl who passed him to the one below her. It was a slower method but the safest. They weren’t even halfway through the group of kids when a gunshot went off.

He pushed the remaining ones out of sight behind crates and barrels. A figure stumbled out of the cabin, hand gripping his own arm -- blade clattering onto the floor. A second shot was fired and one of the other’s legs buckled beneath him. The commander stepped out with a lit lamp, calmly circling the injured man. Minho’s heart raced. He didn’t want to see what happened next. His stomach was still weak despite the violence he had already witnessed. As the captain moved closer, the light illuminated the face of the intruder -- shadow cast over the cabin and helm ominously. His breath hitched. Woojin glared up at the navy man, jaw clenched in determination.

_You really thought you could take my ship with only a knife? That was the problem with your island, boy. You were weak and outdated. Did you actually believe you could save those children? I should kill a few in front of you before you die -- so you’ll never forget that you failed._

The captain called his crew to the main deck. No one responded, since they were all dead.

_Don’t look so smug, I’m going to kill you bullet by bullet before I feed you to the sharks._ He shot Woojin in the other leg, a smile spreading as the crimson did.

Minho could feel Chan’s body frozen in place, at war with himself. All he had was a sword. It would be no match for a gun and he couldn’t risk drawing attention to the kids. It was like he could physically feel each round that pierced Woojin’s skin, heart squeezing at every pained noise the older made. He was so torn. The girls moved carefully, trying to resume their operation. It worked for a little bit, Woojin was somehow prolonging his own demise. The navy commander was monologuing about something. He didn't know what, he couldn’t hear.

The second half of the kids were climbing down the ladder when one of them almost slipped off, a shrill scream cut through the air. Although one of the girls slapped a hand over the child’s mouth, it was too late. The captain whirled around and fired blindly. He tackled the nearest kids to the deck, wood splitting above their heads.

_Get them out of here!_ He ordered.

He knocked the nearest stack of crates over, glass bottles shattering in an ear-splitting crash. The sour smell of alcohol rose from the deck. Woojin slashed at the commander's back, earning a solid knee to the face. The momentum sent the older to the ground, unmoving. Overcome with the need to protect what he believed he had lost, he took a swing at the navy man.

He narrowly avoided the next bullet, the sailor’s aim shaky from the loss of blood. One glance at Woojin's injured form gave him the rage that allowed him to knock the gun across the deck. With another burst of strength, he finally ran his blade through the captain's chest. He twisted it cruelly, tearing through the body until it was nearly cut in half. It wasn't enough. Nothing would be because Woojin was severely wounded.

He tore his own shirt, wrapping the hole in the older's thigh with trembling fingers. It was the one that was bleeding the most. The other leg had a fairly deep graze but, like the arm wound, it had mostly sealed itself with dried blood. He cupped Woojin’s jaw, searching for any signs of consciousness. There was already a bruise forming on the other’s cheekbone -- a dark splotch blooming on skin that was too pale for the future first mate.

_Come on,_ he muttered. _Come back to me_ . _Woojin, please...wake up._

He was on the verge of losing his sanity when the other’s eyes finally fluttered open.

_Everything hurts._ Woojin groaned, trying to blink the world into focus. _Channie?_ Something flashed across the older’s face, expression strained. _No, Woojin. You’re just hallucinating. Chan’s gone. He left you. Probably forgot about you. It’s okay, though. You’re just dying._

_I’m here, Woojin,_ the words were painful. He had never meant for the other to hurt so much simply because of his absence. _You’re not allowed to die on me._

Woojin reached for his face skeptically, clearly expecting him to be a mirage. When their skin touched, the other’s brow furrowed. _Channie… wh-what are you doing here?_

_I’m here to see you, of course._ He teased. The older smiled, thumb brushing along his bottom lip. It felt so good to be close to Woojin again. _I actually came on behalf of your island._

_You mean, what’s left of it._ The other frowned, fingers mindlessly carding through his wild curls.

_At least there_ is _something left. Once we bring these kids home, there will be mor--_

_I thought I’d never see you again._ Woojin mumbled. _I missed you_.

_I missed you too; so much. You have no idea._ He spilled, _I could never forget you. You were all I thought about_.

_Then why did you leave?_

_I think I needed to know what it was like to be away from home to realize where home was._

_You’re disgustingly sweet._ Woojin laughed weakly, _Will you stay this time?_

_Of course. I couldn’t be apart from you again_. 

He placed a loving kiss on the other’s forehead, moving to leave one on the unbruised cheek before softly pressing their lips together.

Time shifted, stopping on a chaotic scene. The kids were going absolutely crazy. They had stayed on the navy vessel after he and a couple of the girls had thrown the bodies into the water. There was way more room and plenty of rations. It was ideal for a few days. The problem came when a passing ship signaled to them and they didn’t understand the code. Almost immediately, there were cannons firing -- the distance between them dwindling with every minute. One of the smaller masts had already suffered a blow and was a heap of splinters on the deck.

Woojin was in no shape to fight if they were boarded and the children would certainly become prisoners again. He couldn’t let that happen. They were somewhat prepared, though. The old fishing boat had been stocked and was still tethered alongside the ship, bobbing in their wake. Even though it hurt immensely, he would have to send Woojin with the girls. The older had progressively gotten worse, infection setting in from only receiving minimal treatment in a far from sanitary place. It was for the best.

As Woojin boarded the fishing boat, the reality of the situation hit him when he watched Chan cut the first rope. _Wait, why aren’t you-- no_.

_Yes._ He ran his fingers through the other’s hair, trailing them down the side of a sickly tinted throat -- Woojin would be out of time soon. _They’ll only follow us if we all go._

_I’m staying too, then._

_No, you’re not_ . He pulled the older into a brief kiss, _You’re going to lead them home._

He lifted the tarnished chain over his own head and placed it around Woojin’s neck, his silver compass falling perfectly into place.

_The compass is yours until we meet again, Woojin_. Even though he wasn’t sure they would, he had to verbally grant it to the older or the transfer wouldn’t work. It would still show what Chan wanted and they would be sailing in circles.

_Will we, though?_ Woojin’s voice was breaking with every word. _Promise me we will._

He couldn’t. They both knew that. _I love you._

The first cannon hit the hull on the port side and Chan cut the final rope, pushing the boat away with his foot. Two of the girls rowed as synchronized as they could, Woojin’s shoulders slumped the farther they got. He clenched his jaw and climbed back onto the deck. He fired a few cannons in retaliation before clambering towards the helm. He forced the ship into a sharp turn, steering in the opposite direction the survivors had gone and directly towards the storm brewing in the west.

For several heart stopping moments, he was parallel with his opponent. He gripped the wheel hard while shards of wood exploded around him. Just a bit closer and the other crew would be able to board and then he would either surrender or perish. It seemed the wind was in his favor, though. He was pulling ahead and out of range. Bullets became lodged in the boards beside him, but none met their mark. Even the canons weren’t quite reaching anymore. Lightning suddenly split the sky and the heavens opened up.

His enemies seemed hesitant to pursue him into the tempest, taking into consideration the safety of their crew. He, however, had only his own life to gamble against the elements. He pushed on through the downpour, waves swirling around him tumultuously, but he wasn’t afraid. He would rather die from being lost at sea than by the hand of any man. Minho didn’t know how long Chan had spent sailing within the storm, the world morphing around him and settling on a different time.

There were crystal clear skies above him and still waters below. The wind had died down and he wouldn’t be able to row an entire navy ship by himself. So, he had no choice but to slowly float along with the almost nonexistent current. It wasn’t too bad, but he really wished Woojin was with him. They could have made up for a lot of lost time. It had been too long since they’d been together, and he suddenly felt even more alone. His body wanted things he would never be able to achieve on his own. He growled in frustration, forcing himself to keep busy.

He was at the helm studying a map of the world spread out and pinned down. He knew Woojin’s island was to the east but without his compass, he wasn’t sure exactly where. The map wasn’t drawn out very well either. Regardless of how long he stared at it, he couldn’t figure out where he was. He ripped it off the desk and let it flutter to the damp ground. He was going to go insane trying to read the damn thing.

It made no fucking sense and it was the only map that was complete. The other ones all seemed as if they were unfinished versions with lines of ink striking through several islands. He felt slightly ridiculous staring at an empty table, reluctantly acknowledging that yes, he had just thrown a tiny fit. He huffed, turning to pick up the parchment he had cast aside. As he reached for it, he noticed something was spreading across it. He crouched beside it.

_The Undying Springs_ , he read aloud.

The space to his left blew up, sending him flying. The breath was knocked out of him and his ear was ringing. He scrambled to his feet, catching sight of the next cannonball as it flew straight towards him. He dove out of the way. One nailed the tallest mast, cracking it in half. It caught the adjacent sail, tearing through the fabric. He wasn’t going to be able to out sail anyone this time. The ship creaked and shuddered in protest at the next wave of cannon fire.

He was being attacked from multiple directions, holes appearing on all sides of the hull. He crossed the deck, climbing slightly onto the bowsprit. His heart thumped in his chest.

Five ships.

_Five_ were approaching.

All of them closing in.

This would be the end for him.

**Author's Note:**

> A few extra notes:
> 
> \---The scene at the beginning is Chan dreaming about when he was still recovering on Woojin's island. However, he and Changbin are actually caught in a storm which wakes him up and takes him back to reality where they are sailing away from the wreckage. Since Minho is living Chan's life, he, too, was experiencing the dream firsthand.
> 
> \---Woojin is very inexperienced with killing. His years of filleting and gutting fish have given him the skills needed to basically murder the crew in their sleep. However, because he's never been in such a hostile environment before, he doesn't even think twice about stepping through the blood and leaving footprints behind.
> 
> And speaking of Twice...
> 
> \---Fun fact, the girls from Woojin's island are basically Twice. I didn't have any specific members in mind, though, and the number of them present on the ship is undetermined for now.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading it!


End file.
